


Far

by remanth



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Civil War, M/M, Stony - Freeform, far
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 08:55:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4954213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remanth/pseuds/remanth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't supposed to go this far is all Tony can think as he stares down at the body lying before him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Far

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Tony Stark said sadly, not bothering to wipe away the tears blurring his eyes. “It wasn’t supposed to go this far.”

He stretched out a hand to the body lying on the table in front of him, hovering just above the cold, still hand. A desire to touch, to twine their fingers together one last time burned through him. But he pulled his hand back and set it on his knee. The cold of his armor bled into his skin. When he’d walked into this room, a sterile and spartan morgue in the basement of the hospital, he’d taken off his helmet and gauntlets. The rest of his armor was all still in place. He’d worn it today rather than regular clothes partly because he was appearing officially as Iron Man and partly because there were others out there who hated him. Who might take a shot at him if they could. He’d never expected that he wouldn’t be the one who’d needed the protection.

_You know this is wrong, Tony. We shouldn’t be registering people like this. Even if they are metahumans or enhanced. It’s wrong._

“I should say that I should have listened to you,” Tony said to the corpse, shaking his head. He swiped angrily at the tears in his eyes when they blurred enough that he couldn’t see. More tears tracked down his cheeks, leaving cold, wet trails. Cold everything, here in this morgue. Especially his heart. “That this wouldn’t have happened had I listened to you. But I thought I was doing the right thing. It was going to happen either way. You know that. At least, if I spearheaded it, I could control it a little. So I thought.”

He should have been watching more carefully. Should have expected someone to take the law into their own hands. After all, while he had his enemies, so did the man lying on the table in front of him. Instead, Tony had been talking to reporters, stressing the reasons why he thought the Initiative was a good thing. Why it was important. He’d caught a glance out of the corner of his eye, blue filled with love and resignation and sorrow. A small smile had tugged at the corner of his lips, something sad and filled with as much love. Then, a sharp crack. Red spraying into the air as light went out of those blue eyes. Knees buckling, body hitting the concrete steps and not moving. Tony’s heart had shot straight into his throat while he watched, his body jolted into motion almost before the echo from the shot had faded away. First to the body, and it really was a body, no rise and fall in the chest or life in staring blue eyes. Then, he’d taken off in the direction the shot had come from.

_This is going to destroy everything we worked for._

_You don’t know that. You can’t know that. This is the only way we survive. Unless you’d rather be hunted down by the government?_

_How can you do this to these people? Our friends and allies? This puts them and their families in danger. Look at Peter. He keeps his family safe because no one knows he’s Spiderman. If he has to register, enemies know who he is and they will go after his family. All of our families._

_People know who we are and they haven’t come after us. Besides, we can keep each other safe. You’re always looking at the worst-case scenario._

_Because it can happen, Tony. And how many times have supervillians targeted the Tower? Targeted us because they knew who we were? Attacked a gala or convention or anything because you and I would be there?_

_You gotta trust me. This is going to work. Besides, do you want some government grunt in charge of the Initiative? Wait, where are you going?_

Jarvis had calculated the trajectory of the bullet before Tony even asked, showing the results on his HUD. It had been a sniper round, at least according to the distance Jarvis had calculated. A regular rifle or a handgun wouldn’t have been able to make the shot. And... yes, there, the top floor of that building. One of the windows was open, white curtains fluttering in the slight breeze. It was about six blocks away from the courthouse though had perfect line of sight thanks to the courtyard and plaza in front. There was no active heat signature at the window though there were fading traces against the windowsill and on the floor. Whoever had shot had been here.

Shooting around the building, Tony arced up until he flew over the roof. There was no one up here, the roof completely bare but for the ventilation fans and a skylight that looked down to the bottom of the building. That meant the shooter was likely going for the ground. He rushed back down, deciding to try the back of the building first after checking the schematic Jarvis helpfully pulled up. There was a back door that fed into an alley running along the entire block. If it was him, that was the exit he’d take. When he reached the ground, Tony looked up and down the alleyway. There was nothing out of place other than a cat sunning himself on a stack of pallets. He was orange and white. When Tony stopped next to him, the cat mewed quietly and raised his head. Tony pet him absently while still scanning the alley. Was he wrong?

Just as he was about to give up, a van drove up the alley. It was white and had the name of a flower shop on the side. It was one Tony had never heard of but could see bouquets of flowers through the windshield. It stopped next to him and the driver hopped out. After staring at him with an open-mouthed, amazed expression, the driver shook his head and pulled out the bouquet that had been on the passenger seat. It was a large spray of carnations, daisies, sunflowers, and baby’s breath. He smiled as he passed and used the door Tony was watching to get into the building. Tony let out a sigh and shook his head. Obviously the shooter hadn’t used this exit. He gave the cat a few more scratches then started reviewing the information Jarvis had recorded about the shooting. While he did so, the delivery driver came back out, tugging a cap low over his face. Tony absently noticed him, knowing that Jarvis was recording everything. He wasn’t important. The shooter was.

The van drove off, turning left out of the alley and disappearing. Tony gritted his teeth as he realized that Jarvis had been absolutely correct about the shooting and the building. Even the predictive software said the shooter would try for the alley entrance if he didn’t go for the roof. Then he had a thought. The driver hadn’t had a cap when he’d gone inside with the flowers. Could it....

“Jarvis, run scans of the delivery driver before and after entering the building,” Tony ordered, heart pounding faster. It felt right, felt like the answer. After a few agonizing seconds, he got his answer. The man walking in was not the same man walking out. “Damn it! That was him.”

Shooting into the air, Tony flew in the direction he’d seen the van going. In the traffic off the alley, there were plenty of white vans. Even a few with flower shops on the side. But none were the name he remembered. Tony flew in ever-increasing circles, studying all of the traffic below him. He looked more and more desperately, the coppery tang of fear coating his tongue. He couldn’t lose the man. Not after losing...

But the van was gone. The shooter was gone. Everything Tony had loved was gone and he felt empty. There was nothing more he could do now. Turning, Tony headed to the closest hospital. It was the one he knew the body would be taken to when an ambulance showed up. When he walked in, he didn’t even need to say a word. A nurse took one look at him and directed him to an elevator. Only two words of what she was saying made it through to Tony. “Morgue” and “Sorry”. He said something in return, he wasn’t quite sure what, and nodded. Whatever it was seemed to work because the nurse didn’t look angry or scandalized or anything. The doors shut on her face and the elevator dropped into the basement, taking Tony with it.

Downstairs was eerily quiet, only the hum of machinery breaking the silence. There were plenty of signs directing one to different places down here. Though there were only three that one could go to: the morgue, the autopsy theater, and the elevator. Tony followed the signs to the morgue, heart breaking with each step. While he’d seen the lifeless eyes back on the steps of the courthouse, it hadn’t quite felt real. Hadn’t quite felt like it had happened. But being here, walking through the hospital to the body of the man he loved made it all too real. Brought back memories of another walk to another set of bodies that he’d loved.

_Don’t do this, please. This will start a civil war between everyone. We can work this out. Please don’t go._

_I have no choice. I’m sorry, Tony. As long as you are set on your path, I’m set on mine. I can’t stand with you on this, not when I believe that it’s wrong._

_This is the only way! It will be worse if we don’t do this. I have no choice just as much as you don’t. I’m thinking of all of us with this. Just... don’t go. Please?_

_I’m sorry. I love you. *fading footsteps*_

_.... I love you, too._

There’d been a pathologist sitting at a desk in the morgue eating a sandwich. Tony’s clunking footsteps had alerted her that someone was coming. Say what you will about his armor but being quiet was not one of its virtues. She looked up, face paling a little at seeing who it was, then she got up. Her words were lost in the rushing noise in Tony’s ears, much like the nurse’s as she led him over to one of the tables. The body was covered by a white sheet but he knew who was underneath there. There was only one person it could be. The pathologist said something else, which Tony nodded vaguely to, and then left him alone in the morgue. Looking around, he snagged a chair and dragged it over, settling heavily into it.

Which led to the conversation he’d been having with the body of the man he loved. Had led to the tears burning in his eyes and the hands itching to touch. His helmet and gauntlets he’d taken off right away, setting them on the table behind him. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, trying to gather the ragged threads of his courage, Tony pulled the sheet down slowly. Steve Rogers’ face was revealed, the eyes closed. His skin was pale and waxy-looking, the muscles slack with death. With the sheet only pulled down to his shoulders, the wound wasn’t visible. All the blood that had splattered had been cleaned away. All that met Tony’s eyes was bare, clean skin looking just a little paler than it had in life.

“I should have made you wear a bulletproof vest or something,” Tony said finally, voice breaking. “I doubt they would have let you wear a suit. But I should have done something. Walked next to you instead of talking to the reporters. I should have protected you.”

_I don’t want to fight you._

_Nor I you. But you want to stop me and I can’t let you do that, Tony._

_Please, Steve, there’s still time to stop this. We can put this all to rest and go back._

_Are you willing to stop pushing the Initiative forward?_

_.... You know I can’t do that._

_Then you know I can’t do what you want either. I’m sorry._

_Yeah, me too, Steve._

“I wish we could have figured out how to end this without fighting,” Tony whispered, letting himself touch Steve at last. He’d pushed sheet aside from his hand a while back, intending to hold it before drawing back. Now, he gripped hard at the slack hand, slowly and with great deliberation threading his fingers in between Steve’s. Then he curled them over Steve’s hand, fresh tears leaking out of his eyes and pain spearing through his gut when Steve’s fingers didn’t mirror him. Of course they didn’t. They couldn’t. But it was the first time that they didn’t. Every other time he’d taken Steve’s hand, both of their fingers had tightened on the other’s hand. And then Steve would give him that little grin before leaning down to kiss him. Or pulling their joined hands up to his lips to press a kiss to Tony’s knuckles. This time, Tony leaned down and kissed Steve’s hand, letting his lips linger. He could still smell Steve’s cologne, something spicy and a touch sweet. It smelled like home. “I’m so sorry, Steve. I’m so goddamned sorry. It shouldn’t have been you. If anyone had to die for this, it should have been me.”

Tony looked up at Steve’s face, praying that he’d look back at him. That he’d smile and laugh and, most importantly, _breathe_ again. But his eyes were still closed and he was unnaturally still. No breath, no heartbeat, no life. A strangled sob escaped Tony’s mouth and tears flowed faster down his cheeks. He didn’t stop looking at Steve’s face, even when the tears blurred it into unrecognizability. This couldn’t be happening. He was so sure they could have figured it out, even with Steve being arrested. Even with whatever was going to happen in that courtroom. They’d both been alive and Steve had finally stopped fighting. He’d seen that they were hurting people and had stopped when others had begged him to. And now, it was all gone.

“What do I do now?” Tony whispered, blinking hard to clear the tears from his eyes. He didn’t want to let go of Steve’s hand. Not even for a moment. This could be the last time he touched the man he loved, the last time he could see and feel him. “I don’t want to do this without you, Steve. You were the heart of us. You were my heart. Where do I go from here?”

Tony couldn’t handle pretending to be strong anymore. And there wasn’t anyone in the room. No one would see him break down. He let the sobs loose, tears falling from his eyes as sobs and cries wracked his body. He rested his head on Steve’s arm, still holding tightly to his hand. He didn’t know how much time passed as he cried out his grief and anger and loss. Too much time and none at all, it felt like. Clumping footsteps barely registered as he cried, footsteps from boots very much like his. Well, that was to be expected wasn’t it? He’d made the War Machine armor himself.

James Rhodes stepped into the morgue and stopped in the doorway, taking in the sight of his friend mourning Steve. Sorrow had etched lines into his own face and he walked with a weight on his chest. Steve Rogers had become a friend of his too and his loss hurt. It was senseless, stupid, so worthless once the man had surrendered. A good man was dead and there was no meaning behind it. That made it all the worse. After a few moments, during which Tony continued to cry, he walked over to the table and stood behind Tony.

“I’m so sorry,” he said quietly, putting a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “His loss is terrible.”

Needing the support, Tony turned and wrapped his free arm around Rhodey and hugged him tight. It brought back other memories, other times he’d needed Rhodey’s support and he’d been there. Rhodey stood quietly and let Tony mourn, hand still on his shoulder. He couldn’t imagine the pain the other man was going through, couldn’t fathom the loss of someone he loved as much as Tony loved Steve. It still didn’t seem quite real. At least for now. It was completely real to Tony, to go by his sobs.

“Come on, Tony,” Rhodey finally said when Tony’s cries had been quiet for a while. “We should go. Let them take care of him and then we’ll say goodbye.”

“You go,” Tony shook his head. “I don’t want to leave him.”

“I know but you have to,” Rhodey insisted, stepping back from Tony and picking up his helmet and gauntlets. “It’s time to let the hospital take care of him. You’ll see him again, Tony. But we have to go. It’s time to go home.”

Tony stood up and stared down at Steve’s face. He’d felt empty inside before, like nothing was left. He didn’t think he could have felt anything at all. He was wrong. Now he felt such pain, piercing and stabbing and burning. His heart was breaking and he couldn’t breathe now that it was time to leave Steve here. More tears gathered in his eyes again but Tony fought them back. He wanted to see Steve’s face, had to, before he left. With a trembling hand, Tony smoothed a few locks of blond hair from Steve’s forehead. Then, he leaned down and pressed a kiss there, lingering for a few seconds. Steve’s skin was cold, so unlike his normal self.

“Let’s go,” Tony said once he stood up. He turned and walked away, not once looking back. Seeing Steve lying there as he walked away would be enough to break him. Rhodey nodded and followed after Tony, watching him carefully.

They crowded into the elevator, a slightly tight fit with both of them in armor. The doors whispered closed and the doors started to rise. The reality of what he was doing hit Tony all over again. He was leaving Steve down there, leaving the body of the man he loved. He was gone and he was never coming back. There was no way he could fix any of this. He broke down again, tears falling down his cheeks. He didn’t fight it when Rhodey pulled him into another hug, just sobbed into his neck as Rhodey hit the emergency stop on the elevator.

“He’s gone, Rhodey, he’s gone,” Tony kept repeating, voice hoarse and broken. “He’s gone. It wasn’t supposed to go this far.” 

“I know, Tony,” Rhodey said, wishing he knew the right words to say now. If there even were any. “It’ll be okay. It’s okay.”

Once Tony got himself under control again, he wiped his eyes and nodded at Rhodey. Pressing the button to get the elevator moving again, Rhodey handed Tony his helmet and gauntlets. Tony put them on, nodding gratefully. The helmet would hide his red eyes and tear-stained face. It would let him face the world, give him a buffer so that he could pretend he wasn’t broken. Could pretend that his whole life wasn’t lying down in a morgue, cold and silent.


End file.
